This was Abby’s very last thought before there was a bright, blinding flash and suddenly, everything went dark.
Chapter 5
When she woke up, a stranger’s face was hovering above her.
“Hello love, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine–I think,” Abby managed groggily. She tried to sit up but the stranger, a middle-aged woman all dressed in white, gently resisted her attempts.
“No, pet, lie still there for a while until the doctor gets here; he should be on his way soon. Would you like anything? A glass of water, maybe? I’m Molly by the way.”
“The doctor?” To her horror, Abby realised she was lying on a bed in what looked to be a hospital ward. And the woman in white with the kind face who was calling herself Molly had to be a nurse. What on earth was she doing in a hospital? she wondered, panicking.
“You had a little accident,” Molly said, as if reading her thoughts.
“Accident?”
“Yes.” Abby realised that the nurse was trying her utmost to appear casual and impassive, but somehow her eyes gave her away. What was going on here? What accident? “You don’t remember?”
“No …I …” She blinked, her eyes heavy with sleep. “How long have I been here? How did I get here?” Lifting her arm out from beneath the covers, she looked at her watch, as if this would somehow enlighten her as to everything that was going on. But there was no watch.
“Don’t worry, all your things are safe and sound,” said the nurse, again second-guessing her. “Your mother has them.”
“Mum? My mother was here?” Now, Abby was seriously frightened. What was going on?
“Ah you’re awake,” said a male voice from the doorway, and a man who Abby assumed was the doctor appeared at the end of the bed. He picked up her medical chart and gave it a quick once-over. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m really not sure,” Abby said, regarding him worriedly.
“Any dizziness, nausea, anything like that?”
“No,” she replied automatically, but the truth was that she did indeed feel dizzy–dizzy with panic and fear over what was happening.
The doctor nodded and scribbled something on the chart. “Any pain or headaches?”
Well, yes she did feel some pressure on one side of her head but …
“Look will someone please tell me what’s going on?” she asked, her voice trembling. “How did I get here? What’s wrong with me?”
The doctor looked up quickly from the medical chart. “You don’t remember?”
“Well, if I did remember I wouldn’t be asking!” Abby cried, biting back tears. “What’s going on?”
But the doctor seemed determined to ignore her pleas and continued on with his questions. “Abby, do you know what day it is?”
Goodness, this was like an episode of the Twilight Zone! she thought, eyes widening.
“What do you mean ‘what day’? It’s Monday of course.”
“And your telephone number?”
“My telephone number…” Abby went to shake her head at the absurdity of it all and as she did, realised that it felt unusually heavy. She lifted up a hand to touch it and discovered that the top of her head seemed to be wrapped in some kind of …bandage. Oh my God!
“OK, maybe we’ll come back to that later,” the doctor said, noticing her obvious distress. “But Abby, can I just ask what’s the last thing you do remember?”
“I’m not sure …”
Confused, Abby tried to cast her mind back. Earlier that morning, she was on her way to work, and was rushing because … because she’d been on the phone to Erin having a conversation about … about a holiday, that was it! It had been after eight-thirty by the time she’d left the house, and the streets were packed with everyone racing here and there …
When she told the doctor this, he nodded sagely.
“You don’t remember anything about a ladder?”
She blinked. “What ladder?”
The doctor nodded again, as if she’d passed, or more likely failed, some kind of important test.
One that Abby didn’t realise she was taking.
“Abby, you sustained a considerable head injury as a result of a roof tile falling from a building and hitting you on the side of the head,” he explained, his voice gentle. “Initially, the force of the blow knocked you out, during which time we were unable to– ”
“Doctor Moroney.”
Suddenly another stranger appeared at the end of Abby’s bed, a woman with kind eyes who looked to be in her early forties. But unlike the others, this woman wasn’t wearing standard hospital-type clothes; instead, she was dressed in a smart black pinstripe suit and bright pink blouse.
“Oh, hello Doctor, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d been called.” The male doctor stepped away from examining Abby to show her medical chart to the newcomer and the two chatted amongst themselves in low voices for a few minutes, which made Abby feel even more uneasy.
Eventually, the male doctor returned to her side.
“Now where were we?” He took a tiny flashlight out of his pocket and shined it directly in Abby’s eyes, after which he made another notation on the medical chart. “Ah yes, can you tell me your phone number?” he asked again, before adding jokily, “don’t worry, I’m a happily married man.”
Abby was too full of anxiety to appreciate the joke, but she quickly rattled off the digits, all too sudden eager to prove to him, if not to herself, that she was absolutely fine.
“And your home address? Work address?” he went on, picking up her right arm and taking her blood pressure. Abby repeated both addresses with ease, her trepidation easing by the minute although she was still completely dazed by all this.
“OK, well we’ll get you down for an MRI soon to check out the damage,” the doctor said, finally putting the chart back, “and I’ll talk to you again after we’ve done the scans. In the meantime, just take it easy and don’t move about too much, OK? You got quite a knock there, and were unconscious for a while, but Doctor O’Neill will tell you all about that.” He and the older woman exchanged looks before he eventually walked out of the room.
Tell me all about what? Abby wondered, barely able to take it all in. And how long had she been unconscious?
“Abby, hi, I’m Hannah O’Neill, but please call me Hannah,” the other doctor said kindly. “I’m the consulting neuropsychologist here at St Vincent’s and I’ll be able to answer any questions you might have.”
Abby nodded gratefully, relieved that she might finally get some answers. “How long was I unconscious?”
“Well, they brought you in this morning and it’s now lunchtime, so no more than three or four hours at the most.”
“Three or four hours? But what happened?”
“Well, as Doctor Moroney explained, you were hit on the head by a falling roof tile,” she repeated pleasantly. “That’s why we needed to ask you those questions. Amnesia can be common after head trauma.”
Molly the nurse returned from tending to another patient. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink of water?” she asked again.
“Actually I think I will.” All of a sudden Abby was parched–unsurprising if she’d been unconscious, she thought, still hardly able to believe it. A falling roof tile! She vaguely remembered veering across the path in order to avoid the person coming towards her, but couldn’t specifically recall noticing the ladder. Not that it would have bothered her, she wasn’t a particularly superstitious person, but clearly this idea had less to do with superstition and much more with safety…
“Was anybody else injured?” she asked Hannah, suddenly fearful that she might have been the cause of something more serious. Knowing her luck, it was a distinct possibility…
“Not that we’re aware of.” Hannah said, allaying her worries on that score.
Soon after, the nurse came back with a glass of water, and helped Abby sit up back against the pillows while the psychologist filled in some more of the bla
nks.
“I’m not sure of the exact details, but it seems the workman on the roof called an ambulance, and stayed with you until it came,” she said. “You had your office identity card on you when you came in so admissions called your boss at the accountancy firm, who in turn called your family.” She tucked the sheets tightly around Abby and then handed her the glass of water. “Your mother has been with you all morning but apparently just went down to the canteen to get some lunch. I’ve had one of the girls go down to tell her you’re awake so I’m sure she’ll be back to see you very soon.”
Abby nodded, relieved that her mother was nearby. “Any idea when I’ll be out?” she asked then.
But the other woman wouldn’t meet her gaze, which for some reason terrified Abby all over again. “Well, that’ll depend on the results of the MRI, and we may have to do a CAT too,” she went on, her voice even. “It all depends. Either way, you’ll have to take things easy for a while.”
“Take things easy?” Abby cried, panicking, “But I can’t! I’m completely snowed under with work and Frank my boss, will go ballistic!”
“Abby, you sustained a very serious head injury,” Hannah spoke gently as if addressing a young child. “And until we know for sure how all of this will affect you, work and everything else will just have to take a backseat for a while.”
“How all of what will affect me? What does that mean?”
“Look, we’ll talk about all of that when the scans come back OK?” the other woman soothed. “For the moment, just relax here and try not to worry.”
But how could she not worry? Abby argued inwardly. This awful, scary thing had happened to her, a thing that might very well end up having greater repercussions than having to take time off work, which was bad enough considering…
Flustered, Abby subconsciously lifted a hand to the back of her neck, only to pull it away again almost immediately. What on earth…?
“What happened to my hair?” she gasped, disbelievingly.
Instead of her curly mid-length blonde hair, she was now sporting some choppy bob-type thing. She moved her hands all over her head, willing to find that some of her precious hair–the only thing Abby liked about herself and what Kieran said was the very first thing he’d noticed about her…
Hannah was quick to reassure her. “They had to cut most it off–so they could examine the wound. But don’t worry; it’ll all grow back in time. Here, I’ll have the nurse get you a mirror so you can see it properly.”
“They cut off my hair without asking?” Even as she said the words Abby knew how stupid they sounded but she just couldn’t believe it. All her lovely hair, gone!
Despite herself she burst into tears and stupidly she knew–given the circumstances–her only concern was that now, Kieran would never want her back.
Some fifteen minutes later, Abby’s mother arrived at her bedside looking suitably worried, but at the same time hugely relieved that her daughter was now awake and OK.
“How are you feeling love?” Teresa asked, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, but Molly made me go down to the canteen for a bite.”
‘Molly’? Abby had to smile. She was only here a couple of hours and already her mum was on first-name terms with the staff.
“That’s OK,” she reassured her, greatly relieved to have someone she knew by her side “and I’m OK too–I think.”
She’d since got over her hysterics about her new ‘hairstyle’, and felt considerably better about it once she’d examined her apperance properly in the small mirror Doctor O’Neill had arranged for her. The doctor (who kept insisting on being called just Hannah) had then spent a further few minutes discussing her injury with her before eventually leaving her to relax.
“The last thing we want is to tire you out. You’ve had a big shock so take it easy and rest a little,” she told Abby kindly. “Doctor Moroney should be back soon with the results of your MRI, and I’ll be checking in on you over the next couple of days to see how you’re getting on.”
“Next couple of days …” Abby repeated, shocked. “How long are you planning to keep me here? I really do feel fine, you know.”
But frustratingly, Hannah was having none of it and remained non-committal about the length of her stay. “We’ll just have to wait and see,” was all she said, before promising to return the next day for another chat.
“So it seems I’m stuck here for a while longer,” Abby explained to her mother now. “It’s odd because I really do feel absolutely fine.”
“Well I suppose the doctors know best all the same,” Teresa patted her on the arm sympathetically. “So do you remember what happened? Before you blacked out, I mean?”
Again, Abby explained that she remembered every single thing that had happened that same morning except actually walking under the ladder.
“I was late for work, and in a bit of rush and the last thing I remember is making my way through the crowds. Next thing I know, I wake up in here.” When her mother looked troubled, Abby was quick to reassure her. “Don’t worry Mum, I’m absolutely fine. I can only imagine how worried you were when you got the phone call though.”
“Well of course I was,” Teresa said. “We all were, Caroline, Dermot and Claire.”
“Claire?” Abby’s eyes widened. “Mum it’s only a tiny bump in the head; why would you bother her with something like that?” Clearly her mother thought this was a much bigger deal than it really was, she realised, her hard racing once more.
But why? Had the doctors told Teresa more than they’d told her? While her mum was a bit of a worrier normally, there was no denying that she now seemed troubled by something, something more than just a bump on the head? “Mum? What is it?” she asked fearfully. “Is there something else going on here? Something I don’t know about?”
“Of course not,” Teresa reassured her. “And I wouldn’t have said anything at all to Claire only she phoned while I was leaving for the hospital, so I naturally enough I told her.”
“Oh, OK.” Abby’s relief was palpable. God, all this stuff was making her neurotic!
“So how’s the patient?” came a voice from what looked like a colossal walking bunch of flowers, before Caroline’s smiling face eventually peeped out from behind it.
“I’m grand,” Abby replied, unsettled by all this fuss. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, that’s a nice way to greet your favourite sister!” Caroline grinned, reaching across to give her a peck on the cheek. “I’m here to see you, and of course to give you these.”
She set down the humongous bunch of flowers that by Abby’s reckoning looked to be about five foot high, just slightly shorter than Caroline herself. “Thanks, they’re gorgeous, but there’s really no need.”
“I know, but while you’re here we might as well make the place a little less dreary. Oh, and I brought some smellies too,” she added, taking out a couple of travel-sized Clarins bottles from her bag along with a bottle of Chanel No 5. Abby shook her head as her sister duly set about spraying the bed linen. She truly did live on a different planet to most other people!
“So,” Caroline said then, once Abby had convinced yet another person that she was feeling fine, “Mum was just about to tell you about Claire, weren’t you?” she said glancing at Teresa.
Her mother wrung her hands. “Well, I’m not sure if now is the right time to say it, what with you being in hospital and all–”
“What about her?” Abby asked.
“Well, as I said, I was talking to her on the phone earlier and … well, she had some good news.”
“Really? What?”
“Well, it turns out she’s pregnant,” Teresa finished awkwardly, and Abby knew immediately that her mother felt guilty about the timing and even more guilty for being so happy about one daughter’s fortune while another was experiencing definite misfortune. But there was little need for her to worry.
“That’s amazing news!” she gasped, thri
lled for her older sister.
“Isn’t it just?” Caroline agreed smiling.
“So, how far along is she?”
“Six months believe it or not,” her sister informed her before Teresa could reply.
Now Abby was even more shocked. “Six months? And she’s only telling us now?” Although maybe her sister was nervous about broadcasting her happy news until she knew for sure that everything was OK–people sometimes did that. Still six months seemed excessive for something like …
Then Abby thought of something. “But how come she never said anything the other day?” she wondered out loud. “When she phoned to wish Mum a happy birthday?”
The others exchanged a glance. “Well, she probably didn’t want to take away from or overshadow Mum’s celebrations,” Caroline suggested. “You know what Claire’s like.”
Abby did, although she really couldn’t understand how her sister could have withheld such amazing news for so long. She was ecstatic for her though, and she’d definitely have to give her a call now. Or at least, whenever she got out of this place…
“Anyway, are you sure you’re OK?” Caroline asked her again. “Although, I have to admit you look pretty good to me.”
“I’m absolutely fine,” Abby reiterated for the umpteenth time that day. “I think they’re making a huge fuss over nothing keeping me in here–not to mention wasting a bed on someone who clearly has nothing wrong with them.”
But the shadow that crossed Teresa’s face when she said this suggested to Abby that her mother didn’t share her optimism.
Chapter 6
“I’m afraid there is indeed evidence of damage,” Doctor Moroney said, his tone sombre.
It was two days since the accident and Abby and her mother had been called to the neurologist’s office for the results of her CT scan. As the nurse wheeled her inside on the hospital wheelchair, she noticed various skull-shaped images displayed on some piece of medical apparatus behind him.
Falling in Love in New York Page 4